


What's in a Sacrifice

by daisybrien



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, Ocean, Other, Post Titan War, Post-Canon, Post-War, Seeing the ocean, Water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4668647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisybrien/pseuds/daisybrien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of their discovery, they find themselves unfolding a new chapter of their lives, and in their freedom reflect back on the people that had helped bring them there in the first place.</p>
<p>(LeviHanWeek 2015)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's in a Sacrifice

The view is nothing less than overwhelming.

It leaves him breathless, standing dumbfounded, left incapable of anything but staring off into the distance. It wasn't as if he had never seen something of the hue before, but Levi was nothing if not a man who seeks familiarity, an ever vigilant eye searching for the things that he knew to be safe, or simply things that he knew when safety couldn't be found. He had grown up in the underground, and while he could do nothing but loathe its dirtiness and disease, its darkness and quiet, found in the dusty alcoves of barrack libraries and the own warmth and seclusion of his meticulous room - his old room, he has nothing in there anymore, and fortunately will never go back to it - were comfortable places, where he found the solitary and security he needed. He was used to the greys and greens of what used to be everyday life, in the crud sunken deep into cobblestone streets and the scratches on the stone faces of storefronts, the towering trees and breezy fields that would eventually taper off into towering grey walls. He knew the brown of military jackets, emeralds of cloaks and the reds that would seep into it all too often, reds that would trace twirling patterns in shower water as it spirals down the drain, find their home in the cracks of his hands. Many of those sights were rare, nonexistent now that they had left the Walls, the world beyond them a welcoming new thing for them to familiarize with, and hopefully call their home.

Even what was in front of him now was not so foreign, the rare dye of a street vender’s canopy or a weed's flower breaking through crumbling concrete a usual sight for the eye. It was painted up above him most days, a dome covering them, although for the greater part of his life he never found a use of looking up into it, let alone with hope.

But this, this blue so unfamiliar and moving and alive, shining vast and never ending; it was greater than just a colour, more of an experience, coming with the smell of salt and wet stone in his nose, the sounds of whispering waves cresting and seagulls crying, the feel of cool dewdrops beading on his skin. It seemed to breathe like a living thing, so wrought with life not only in its turbulence but in the what lies underneath, only a sliver of which washes up to skitter over the shore, and in its awe inspiring ability to almost stare into him, blue and watery like a piercing eye.

He can do nothing more than let his feet sink into the sand, feeling the watery mess of it squelch between his toes. For once in his life, he couldn’t give less of a care about the dirt that will cling to his skin, find its way into his clothes and crevices in his body that he didn’t even know existed. He just lets himself take in the impossible view of blue of sky and sea rolling into the horizon together infinitely, letting the sun beat down on his sweaty skin, blocking out the rest of the world but for the murmuring of the ocean waves tumbling over themselves. 

It’s all overwhelming, leaving him in a staggering awe to the point where he can’t move, can’t react, can’t do anything but stare, take in it’s crystal gleam as light reflects off it in lines of shining colour. He wants to let it surround him, watching as droplets fly up, turning into tiny pinpricks of light as they catch the sun’s rays. It seems to rise over him, ready to pull him into its depths. He is all but passive to its will, so enthralled that he realizes that it is literally washing over him only as it slaps against his face and seeping into his clothes, flooding his mouth and stinging in his eyes.

He’s reduced to a dripping, sputtering mess, growling as he hears Hange’s god-awful cackling bounce around him, glaring at her as he wipes the salt from his burning, red eyes. 

“Earth to Levi,” Hange singsongs, basking in the waves crashing over the shore. She’s soaked head to toe, her ponytail limp and matted, face red in her exhilaration as her limbs drift through the water serenely, hands overflowing with smooth rock and strange, glasslike shells. Her goggles lie perched on her forehead, digging into her skin, droplets and sand clinging to the glass. Her arm skims over the surface of the water again, another wave rising to claim him, forcing him to step back from another onslaught. “You still here with me?”

“God fucking dammit,” Levi grumbles. He trips back, shaking his arms off by his sides; his sleeves sag under his forearms like limp wings, clothes clinging to him, hair falling into his face. 

“Wow, Levi,” she says. He glares at her, and if it weren’t for the sly smirk plastered over her giddy face, he might have thought she were oblivious to the mess she had made of him. “You didn’t even try to dodge that. It seems like your reflexes are really deteriorating lately.”

“The only thing deteriorating right now are my nerves,” he snaps back. 

“Are you sure?” Hange asks. Her hand flicks the water again, an arch of dispersing droplets flying through the air before falling towards him. He skips backwards, almost falling on his backside as he narrowly avoids it, sparks of pain alighting in his hip and knee. Dark spots start to bloom in the sand where he was standing just moments before, the grains clumping at the new wetness as the water splatters over it.

“Do you mind?” Levi says.

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re keeping your physique up,” Hange shrugs, “and so far the results don’t look so good. We were barely relieved of duty a year ago and you’re already letting yourself go.”

“God forbid I want to take a fucking sight in,” Levi snarls, “without someone shoving seawater so far down my throat it almost comes out my ass.”

“Well, that sounds like a sight I would definitely like to take in,” Hange snorts. Her grin widens, eyes shining. “Can I do the honours?”

“I don’t know, Four-Eyes,” Levi says. He puts his hands on his hips, leaning down towards her patronizingly. “Can you?”

“Don’t pull that shit with me,” Hange says. “You know what I’m capable of, and with you letting your guard down so much now, you should be even more careful.”

“Well, I know I’m not the only one whose been letting my guard down recently,” Levi says.

Her face doesn’t even get the chance to shift into it’s usual curious confusion at his comment, furrowed eyebrows and growing smirk slowly disappearing as her eyes widen with horror, watching as he runs forward, kicking water in his wake. She lets out a grating screech, one that ends abruptly in a hacking cough as Levi kicks water at her, each of her shrieking protests interrupted by another splash. She starts to shuffle back on her bottom, her handfuls of specimen floating back to settle under the waves again. Her arms and legs disturb the dirt below as she digs them into it in her attempt to escape, dust pluming up in blooming clouds around them, some of it mingling into the water rising up with each of his kicks.

“You fucking ass!” Hange cries. She tries to retaliate, launching water back at him as she scurries away. But for once, he has the height to overcome her, her own assault unable to reach him from her point on the ground.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Levi yells, grunting as he kicks his feet forward, “I’m just trying to make sure you’re keeping your physique up.”

She starts to gain her own edge, the results of her own failed defense beginning to strike him. He feels cold hit his chest again, splattering on his face. His shoulders shake, lungs burning and throat growing sore with every loud guffawing breath. He slowly begins to realize that the both of them are laughing, laughing more than they have in years, more than he ever thinks he has in his life. He sees it in Hange’s face too, when he can see her in the gaps of each swell and wave, face framed in the bright blue of it. Her eyes alight with joy at the sight of him, almost tearful in her own ecstasy, as if the weight of her greatest sorrows were lifted off her shoulders just by seeing him smile. He feels it too, his body feeling lighter, almost weightless, his chest swelling as their eyes meet in a mutual understanding, not only in their joy to see the other without burden for the first time in their lives – the very first time, he realizes with a twisting stomach, and it strikes him just how much life has worn them down, had left them in a perpetual state of grief – but of how their bond could only now start a new chapter, formed from freedom and happiness unlike the mourning and pain it had tentatively and miraculously come to fruition under. They were free, finally free from hell, the world theirs to explore and conquer.

It hurts Levi to kill the moment, so fleeting and impossible that he knows he will never get the chance to be like this with her again. He may get similar chances, yes, but none so unique and gratifying as this, the affirmation that everything they’ve done and sacrificed has come with a result so grandeur that they couldn’t even imagine it. But as waters slaps at his face again, her assault growing stronger in her desperation, it kills him more to give her the satisfaction of winning, wiping the smug grin off her face with a wild stroke of the arm, a tidal wave preceding its wake.

He hears Hange sputter, her body flying back, her arms rising up in a futile attempt to protect herself. He keels over with his laughter, relentless in his own attack, watching as she disappears under each rise and crash, the only thing left of her the ear splitting cries of her protests.

His own jubilance is what causes his downfall in the end, the shield of water giving her cover, shielding her actions from him. He only realizes his mistake when he feels something hard crash against his legs, Hange breaking through the waves, launching herself towards him. Her arms wrap around him, pulling his feet from under him, and soon the blue he is seeing is not that of the sea but of the sky above him, his body falling to the ground; he is prepared, squeezing his eyes and mouth shut as his back smacks the water, cold and bubbling quiet engulfing him as he floats in darkness.

His hands touch silt, fingertips first sinking in it before it stiffens underneath them, a platform to raise himself up from. His head breaks the surface, hair covering his face like a dripping curtain, the sun shining through its glossy sheen as he spits the dregs of seawater that had wheedled its way into his mouth. One hand whips the hair from his face, leaving it fold over his head in a pathetic flop. Hange snorts with laughter, eyes closed and crinkled at the corners as she leans back on her hands. 

“I win,” she laughs, splashing a few drops at him with the tips of her fingers. He flinches, but decides not to respond in kind; the pain in his hip had sprung anew as it had hit the rocks below, and he would rather let it settle into a faint numbness before getting up, feeling the cool water soothe the tension in his muscles, release the tension and stress in his aching bones. These are not just pain of injuries, he notices, although the strain of years of battle had taken it’s toll on both of their bodies – his ankle still ached on rainy days, and it’s a silly thing for him to complain about, knowing the two of them had and still suffered from much worse – but the pains of aging. Although he grimaced at the thought of grey hairs, the thought elates him. The ability to grow old was a miracle unto him in itself.

To grow old with her, to be free with her, that was something incomprehensible, something that still makes his heart shake in his chest with a silent joy that has stayed unspoken in words but hopes shows itself in action, hopes that with every knowing smile of hers with a brush of his fingers over her hair or a chaste kiss pressed to the back of her scarred hand she hears its silence. He doesn’t think he will ever get bored of the idea, one that used to be so impossible and misguided now wishful delusion made incredibly possible.

They fall into a peaceful silence, one that sinks deep into his bones and settles snugly in his chest, a warm reassurance of safety that he was not used to but still welcomes graciously. He watches as his clothes ripple over the surface, eyes tracing the lines of sunlight refracting through the waves beating at his back. He looks to Hange, who sits with her face to the sky, eyes closed and face graced by the sun’s kiss, her expression one of serenity as she smiles towards the horizon.

Levi’s ears begin to tune themselves to the voices of others, drifting to him over the water. He scans the shoreline, watches as the young prance through the waves, unafraid and uncaring of the water that rises to meet them as they disturb it, the old settling over the sand or sinking their hands into shell and rock alike in a wide eyed amazement, gummy grins revealing gaps in their teeth, childlike wonder dawning over faces of wrinkles and spots. There are shared screams of joy and laughter as people free themselves to the ocean, the silence of those risking drifting out into the distance as they float with their revering faces to the sky, the cries of those witnessing the first bite of the sea’s cold, the sobs of those crumpling on the sand before they can even reach the water, all too emotional over its realness.

“Can you believe we actually made it this far?” Levi says. “That we made it out, to the ocean?”

He watches Hange as she basks in the sun, her body seeming to swell as she takes in a deep breath, chest arching towards the sky as if ready to launch herself out into the universe, float up gracefully into the sky above. He almost believes that she could; if all this could be real, something that had once been so unobtainable, why not human flight? The illusion disappears as she exhales, deflating like a balloon, eyes opening to look at him.

“If I didn’t think it were promising,” she begins, “I wouldn’t have worked my ass off for it.”

“But before we made it here,” he says. “Did you ever actually believe that this was possible for us?”

“Well, that’s a loaded question.”

“It’s not like you’ve ever turned down those kinds of questions before.”

Hange huffs out a laugh, looking into the water at her thighs, the knots of her pants fluttering with the current. “If I told you I kept at my work for the entire reason of knowing we could make it to the outside world,” she says, “I would be lying.”

“You didn’t think we would be able to do it?”

“Sometimes,” she says. He watches her hands twist under the water with a swirling, pink shell, fingers warped into bent and twisted lines. “Sometimes I didn’t really see a point. Sometimes I didn’t think that I could ever find a solution, or I would think of dying before I could come to my conclusion, just so I wouldn’t be alive to be the one who worked it out only to realize there was no point in it. You saw me when I reached dead ends in my research.”

“But you did it,” he presses. “We’re here.”

“We did it,” she says, a humble smile blooming on her face, eyes growing tearful. “We sacrificed so much.”

The words are heavy, like rocks sinking into water. He looks at her, eyes tracing her from the hair limply hanging over her shoulders down her torso, over the curve of her waist, ending prematurely at two scarred stumps that make up the remains of her legs, the sand swallowing them, settling over the crisscrossing lines that mark where her knees would have been. His own hand presses against the pain in his hip, feeling the uneven surface of his leg through his clothes, the surface almost dented at the absence of a massive chunk of skin and muscle.

He eyes his cane lying abandoned on the beach beyond, her own prosthetics of clanking wood and metal lying by it haphazardly, his fingers slowly crawling into his pants’ pocket. His knuckles brush over the stiff felt of a ripped patch, nails grinding along the embroidery of blue and white wings. Their sacrifice was nothing compared to those the people that had fought beside them, the lives they had given up too precious to compare to the value of the sea creatures creeping along the beach, the cool water over his skin. They will never get to see the results of their martyrdom, see the ocean in all its glory and feel their toes sink into hot sand. They will never get to grow old, see the laughter of their children or the wonders the world could have offered them, their lives taken from them all too early to be just, and all for the livelihood of people who would get to experience the awe that they will never get to have.

Hange pushes herself closer to him, her legs pressing into his. She had always read him like a book, and he could never be more grateful for her understanding of him, the simple furrow of the eyebrow or slight downward curl of the lip enough of a signal for her to detect the anguish he had buried deep enough to never be seen by the passing eye, deep enough that it still digs stabbing pains into him. Her arms envelope him, his own wrapping around her waist to pull her closer, the two of them a soggy, sticky knot.

“So many people gave their lives for this,” he says, his voice low as his throat threatens to swell in his sorrow. His lips press into the soaking fabric of Hange’s shirt, her arms squeezing tight around him in a stifling embrace, as if trying to squeeze the sadness out of him. “Now they can’t even see the result of everything they had worked for.”

“I know,” she whispers. Her fingers run lines through his dripping hair, setting it straight before it can dry in a tangled, bird’s nest of a mess. She takes him by the shoulders, pushing him away just enough so that they can look at each other, noses inches from the other. One hand moves up his neck to cup his cheek, trace the contour of his jawbone before holding his chin to make him look at her, thumb brushing along his skin.

“We might not be able to repay them for what they gave for us,” Hange says, pressing her lips together in a thin, pained smile. Drops roll their way down their cheeks, and he doesn’t know whether her eyes are red from the saltwater of the ocean or her tears. “But we’re here now. We should make sure their loss wasn’t in vain.”

“We’re here,” he says, as if to reassure himself of the reality of it, almost too good for it to not be a dream, iridescent and hopeful. “We’re both here. We’re here together.”

“Yeah,” Hange nods, laughing through a sob that tears its way from her chest, her whole body jolting with its force. She nods vigorously, pulling him to her. 

Their lips crash together frantically, Levi feeling Hange’s laugh against his mouth, her own twisting in a tearful smile. Their kiss is forceful at first, messy and humiliating in their joyful stupor and their desperation, one that they had hidden for so long, bursting out of them after the pressure that had left them so broken in a world that had been so hell bent on ruining them. It had not succeeded, the two of them still alive to pick up the pieces of their shattered hearts together, mending the scars that death and war had wrought on them. 

Their kiss grows slower, deeper, lips moving in tandem, the occasional bump of the nose or painful bite of the lip growing rarer as they find a comfortable pace, no longer fueled by the frenzy of emotion suddenly flooding through them. Instead, they begin to use the moment as theirs, exercising their newfound ability to share their intimacy so publicly, so slowly and sweetly, to take up all the time for themselves without a care for how it affects the goddamn greater good. Their arms run over each other, finding every inch of each other’s body to feel, as if they would never see each other again; the idea was far from their minds, and would hopefully stay that way, the new needlessness of the pain and worry of the past still so amazingly foreign to them. He hears a high pitched whine float its way over to them, unable to tell if it’s the hum of the wind through the waves or the wolf whistle of a lewd soldier watching them from the shore; at the moment, he frankly couldn’t give less of a shit what it was, the only thing he cares about now the person in his arms, alive and breathing and there with him, forever, and him the same to her.

He loses track of the time, uncaring of the minutes or hours that may be passing the two of them by. However long they were they for, it still isn’t enough, making him groan in disappointment when Hange breaks the kiss, even when he finally notices the goose bumps on both of their skin, the blue tinge slowly starting to seep into Hange’s lips. He tries to steal her back, pecking her on the lips, pulling giggles from her but not her closeness.

“You starting to get cold?” she breathes.

“Not with you here to warm me up,” he grunts. 

He wraps her arms around her again, hearing her snort with laughter as he pulls her body flush against his, burying his face into her neck. He leans back, her body a comfortable weight on his chest as he drags her on top of him, his hands cupping her bottom. He starts to lie down, his back pressed against the rocks in what he expects to be a romantic gesture, entangled in each other against the shore. It fails spectacularly, the two shrieking and swearing as the water smashes against them, coughing and sputtering through its bitter taste as it immerses their faces.

He starts to drag her onto the sand, frowning as he feels it clinging to his wet skin. They stammer through the last bits of their laughter before falling silent, Hange’s hair falling into his face, her head blotting out the sun as she hovers over him. One hand traces his hairline, brushing hair behind his ear, her soft touch sending shivers down his spine.

“We’re here together,” she whispers, looking over his face with soft, shifting eyes, “and we’re going to make the best life we can here.”

“You want to settle down here?” Levi says, quirking an eyebrow.

“For a couple months,” she smirks. “We’ll enjoy what the ocean has to offer us. Then we’ll explore everything the world has for us and never have to settle down again.

“We’ll rediscover the world all on our own,” she says wistfully, a sad smile blooming on her face. “For the future, and for the people who couldn’t come with us from the past.”

“In their stead,” he says. His fingers fiddle with them hem of his pocket, tucking the patch safely into the depths of it before moving to wrap both his arms around her. “Their sacrifices will be worthwhile.”

The words settle into the two of them in a warm finality, burying itself snugly into their beating hearts, a promise for not only the two of them but for the rest of the world, letting the potential of their adventure be known for its very real and massive greatness. It seems to blossom in her, shining on her face in a soft grin that bleeds of enthusiasm and love before she settles her head under his chin. She lies there, still, her body his blanket and the ground his bed, the sun drying them as they wallow in the endless joy of their triumph, and he lets himself for the first time in his living memory find the peace to close his eyes and relish in the boundless possibilities their beautiful world can offer them.

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone is a sucker for fic where they finally see the ocean but not as much as me. Happy LeviHan Week everyone!


End file.
